Stupid Boy
Page 31I searched her eyes; studied her features in the moonlight. She suspected I hid just as many secrets as she did. And for some reason, she was interested in knowing my truths. I’d confess a few. Not all, but some. I smiled. Nodded.
“You’re on, Ms. Belle,” I agreed.
“Good. You go first,” she said hurriedly.
I leaned a little closer. She smelled good—not perfume good, but something else. Maybe it was the scent of pine that surrounded us. Definitely something I wasn’t used to in Boston. I waited. Wondered what made her tick. What would make her buckle. Sigh with pleasure. Or content.
“Well?” she finally prodded.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since that day in the park.”
Her eyes rounded, making them even wider than they naturally were. “Really?” Her tongue slipped out, wetting those full lips that I couldn’t stop staring at. She had no idea what it did to me.
“Yeah. Really.” I searched her eyes. She hadn’t run away, and that was a good thing. “Now you.”
Then, I saw it. Fear. And I watched as it flared, rose in her like something alive, and she shifted uncomfortably on the blanket. My hand reached for hers, and I noticed she’d never put on her gloves. Her fingers were cold. “Hey,” I said as gently as I could. “Don’t say anything that makes you want to run.”
Her eyes softened then, like pools of water as they searched mine. “Okay.” She swallowed, glanced away, staring at another plane passing just over our heads. She didn’t look at me now, and that’s how I realized she spoke the truth.
I couldn’t keep the shock off my face. I tried, but I couldn’t. I believed her.
How, at twenty years old, had she never kissed anyone? How?
“Do you trust me?” I said softly. I wanted her to, so bad.
She said nothing; only nodded. Vulnerability rolled off her in such harsh waves, I almost felt it.
Right or wrong, I couldn’t help myself. It might make me a bastard, but swear to God, I couldn’t help it.
I leaned in and kissed her.
I forced my eyes to stay open as Kane’s head tilted, grew close, and in the moonlight I watched his long dark lashes brush his pale skin. The moment his cool, firm lips pressed against mine, I closed my eyes and exhaled. Kane seemed to swallow it, breathed in as I breathed out, barely moved against my mouth. It was gentle. Soft. And when he shifted his lips to taste the corner of my mouth with the slightest swipe of his tongue, I gasped, and he swallowed that, too.
He pulled back then, his eyes on mine, and mine unavoidably on his. What seemed like surprise filled the liquid coffee pools as they stared at me, speaking volumes without uttering a single word. I was speechless; I could barely breathe.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked. He hadn’t moved away from me. Just out of reach. There, in my space, but not terrifying.
That coaxed a smile to touch his lips. His teeth gleamed white in the odd light of night that we sat in. “Is that a good thing?”
“I’m not sure,” she answered. I looked at him, watching his eyes closely. “I…guess you think that’s pretty weird? Twenty years old and never been kissed?”
He didn’t falter. Not once. His eyes only softened as they did. He wore sincerity in those lush brown orbs like some wore their heart on their sleeve.
“Weird, no,” he answered. “Surprised, hell yes.” His fingers found mine, and I allowed his touch as he twined our hands together. “Privileged, more than anything.”
I tilted my head, curious. “Why?”
“To be the first.”
I nodded, understanding. “Oh.” The current between us that was there earlier still existed; it hadn’t evaporated. “Was the kiss an experiment?”
“It was a strong desire.” His fingers squeezed mine. “I’ll want to do it again.”
I nodded. “Me, too.”
“I should go,” I finally said. “The week before Thanksgiving is always so busy. And I have a test—”
Kane’s mouth covered mine, swallowing my words, surprising and thrilling and scaring me at the same time. Not as light, not as feathery as before, this kiss felt…different. Intoxicating. I tasted the faintest trace of spearmint. His knuckles grazed my jaw, held my mouth still as he explored, and my heart raced harder than it had before. I felt as though I was sinking straight into him. Then, he pulled back, his eyes on mine. “I couldn’t help myself.” His easy words washed over me. “But I’m not sorry for it.”
Breathless, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. “I’m not, either,” I answered.
A smile claimed his beautiful face, and wordlessly he rose and pulled me with him. I stretched my legs as he shook out the blanket and folded it, then with it tucked beneath one arm, and my hand grasped in his, we headed back down the bluff.
“Funny how, now that we’re used to the moonlight we can see perfectly fine without the flashlight,” I noticed.
Kane looked down at me as we walked. “Why don’t you like the dark?”
My mind flew to the memory of that cramped, wet, dank kitchen cabinet. A pitch-black closet. Alone. What had driven me to both places. Inside, I involuntarily shook at the memory. I knew that was something I couldn’t share with Kane. Not now or ever. “I think I had nightmares as a little girl.” It wasn’t a lie; it was the exact truth. I simply left out a few critical points out. “Just never got over it, I suppose.” I wanted to know more about Kane, and that surprised me. Never had someone intrigued me enough to ask questions. Want to know things of their past. With him? I was drawn to him like…well, like I’d never been in my whole life. I slipped a glance his way as we walked; his knowing gaze already there, waiting. Almost anticipating.